


My Sweet One

by LedaSF



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Erotica, F/M, Magic, Sexy Times, The Only Four Letter Word is Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-12-31 12:58:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12132999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LedaSF/pseuds/LedaSF
Summary: When you call, he answers . . . in a most direct manner.





	1. Chapter 1

You click off the living room light, and head for your bedroom. Wearing your your robe more out of habit than necessity, it hangs untied at your sides as you walk down the hallway.

You pull the sheets and duvet into place, and fluff the many pillows. Some people don’t understand why you have all these pillows, even though you sleep alone. You like your comforts, and don’t care what they think.

Wide awake after your unexpected nap on the couch, you decide to read a while, since you are not going to fall asleep any time soon.

You turn off the overhead light and pick up the box of matches next to the candelabra. You pull a match free of the cardboard and strike it.The match nears the wick, but before it makes contact, a green spark ignites the candle.

The match burns down, and you blow it out before it burns your finger.

_Maybe I am tired. I’m seeing things._

You pull a second match, and light it from the already-burning candle.

As you move the match to the second wick, the green spark appears again, and lights that candle, too.

_Ooookaaay. I am definitely seeing things._

You blow out the second match, and pull a third from the box.

Before you can strike the match, the remaining candles blaze with light.

_What.The.Hell._

“Candle light is so flattering.” The smooth voice, so familiar, comes from the doorway of the bedroom.

Pulling your robe around you, you turn, and shake your head to clear it.

_I am definitely seeing things._

“Why do you think that?” The familiar voice, the familiar figure. Tall, black haired, green eyed, clad in leather and metal—standing just outside your bedroom door.

“Because you’re not real.”

The figure laughs. “Oh, but I am! If I were not real, I could not be here.”

“You are a cartoonized version of an ancient god, one of the elder Jotun gods who predated the arrival of the proto-Norse tribes, who brought with them the worship of the Aesir and supplanted the earlier nature gods of the Jotnar and Vanir. Sturluson later recast you as an antihero god when he imposed Christianity on the area. And now, you have been redrawn as a convenient villain in a comic book series, which is the basis of some popular movies.”

“Well, someone has done their reading.” He smirks. “But that makes me no less real.”

You bite your lip. _I am arguing Norse mythology with an apparition._

“Please, I assure you I am quite real.”

“Loki. God of Mischief. Here.”

“Why do you doubt me?”

“Well, let’s see. You’re a Trickster god, and I am apparently so tired I’m seeing things.”

He laughs. “Yes, I am a Trickster. No, you are not that tired.”

_Might as well see where this goes._

“Okay, so you’re real. And you’re here. Why?”

“You called me.”

You stare.

“You’ve invoked me a number of times. Tonight seemed like a good time to answer your call.”

Unable to come up with a quick answer, you blush, and pull your robe tighter around you.

“If you’d rather I left—“ He gestures with those hands like birds in flight.

“No! I mean, no. It’s fine. Stay. Please.” Your heart is pounding, and your brain is still not sure what is happening.

Loki’s smile dazzles you. “You must invite me in.”

Your mouth runs ahead of your mind. “As a victim invites a vampire?”

He gives a small bow, the slightest smile gracing his lips. “As a lady invites a gentleman.”

You feel calmer, and in control of yourself again. “Loki, you may enter.”

He moves across the threshold, the leather and metal of his clothing creaking just slightly, stopping just in front of you.

“Well, now that I’m here,” he smiles at you. “What would you have of me?”

Your only reply is another blush. Perhaps you are not as in control of yourself as you had allowed yourself to believe.

“Given the times you’ve called to me before, I don’t imagine your primary interest is in a discussion of mythological development of archetypes.”

“Actually, I _was_ wondering about the transition—“

Loki leans in and kisses you, wrapping his arms around you. Without a thought, you melt into him, and he presses you close against his armor, keeping his lips locked on yours.

He puts a hand behind your head, tilting it up to look at him. He pulls back slightly, smirking just a bit.

“The transition?”

“Um, right. Before the first wave of proto-Norse—“

Loki leans forward and nuzzles your ear. ‘The first wave?”

Your mind has lost the question. All you can think of is the feel of his lips on your skin. He works his way down your neck, bestowing fiery, soft kisses from ear to collarbone.

Your knees buckle, and you pitch forward. He catches you, and sets you on the bed.

Soft hands trail across your shoulders, light kisses following light touches as he slips your robe down your back and removes it. You arch into him, feeling the cold of the armor and the heat of the leather on your skin.

Loki presses you back against the pillows, hands and lips setting fire to your skin.

You lean back, half-sitting, half-lying against the wall of feathers and down.

Loki’s hands trace the curves of your body—neck, shoulders, breasts, arms, waist, hips, thighs, his wordless delight expressed in the variations of touch across your skin.

His hand stops just between your thighs—almost, but not touching. Your body shakes with longing.

“Well, well. It seems you like this.” The tip of his finger barely brushes your skin. “You’re wet almost to your knees.”

His fingers lightly trace up your thighs, causing you to rock and moan.

“Oh, yes. You _like_ this.”

You nod.

“Tell me you like this.”

Your mouth twitches, your brain trying to form the words.

“Loki. Please.”

“Please what?”

His hands seem to be everywhere, touching and teasing, as you shudder and writhe beneath his touch.

“I want you. Please, Loki.”

“And you shall have me, sweet one.”

Your hips buck as he squeezes your inner thighs, drawing you up from the bed.

“But not yet.”

You gasp, tears of frustration edging your eyes.

“I have so much more to do first.”

His hands slide down your legs, bending your knees and opening you wide.

“This, for example.”

His lips brush your instep, back and forth, so lightly. He works his way around your ankle as one hand slowly moves up your calf.

“And this.”

The warmth of his tongue follows the coolness of his hand, gliding so slowly up your calf, lingering just a moment behind your knee, then slowly up your thigh.

You shudder and cry out, desire stretching your nerves.

“Oh, but wait. I should be fair to the other side.”

He returns toyour other foot, and slowly, with hand and tongue, moves up that leg, stopping just before he reaches the top of your thigh.

“Well, sweet one. Was that what you wanted?”

Gasping, you shake your head.

“Oh, dear. You are not pleased?”

His hands hover over your sex, your hips bucking wildly, silently begging for his touch.

“No. I mean, yes. I mean—“

“Perhaps you were hoping for this?”

He plunges two fingers in to their full length, You cry out as you bear down, and the orgasm rolls through your body. Your hands clutch the sheets as the waves of pleasure break through you.

Loki holds his hand steady, those lovely, long fingers working in and out as you thrash and cry his name.

A last shudder rips through you, and you fall still, his fingers remaining inside of you as you pant for breath.

“Very nice, sweet one.” Loki leans over and kisses you. “Do you need a break?”

The idea of him stopping is unbearable. Wide-eyed, you shake your head frantically.

“Good.”

He rests his thumb on your clit, and gives it just a bit of pressure, then eases.

His fingers rest on your g-spot. He pauses, then presses twice.

Then his thumb presses your clit.

Then his fingers press on your g-spot.

Clit.

G-spot.

His thumb.

His fingers.

His hand rocks slightly as he alternates the pressure, just slightly out of time with your heartbeat.

Your heart beats faster. His hand moves faster.

Your heart speeds. His hand matches it, steadily rocking you, as you writhe under his hand.

You hear yourself screaming as the orgasm rips through your body, You clench on his hand, bucking and twisting and screaming.

The ripples calm, and you open your eyes to see Loki smiling with great satisfaction.

“Was that more like what you had in mind?”

You nod.

“Tell me.”

“Yes, Loki.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Loki. That was what I wanted.”

Loki’s smile widens. “Is that _all_ you wanted?”

“Yes. No.” Despite coming repeatedly, your nerves are stretched to breaking with need for more.

“What do you want, sweet one?”

“I want you, Loki.” Desire burns in your core.

“How do you want me?”

“I want you inside me, Loki.”

“Well, then, sweet one, you shall have what you desire.”

Loki slowly withdraws his fingers, causing you to shake and crave him even more.

He stands, and reaches for the buckle on his hip.

“No. Please.” You shudder just thinking of the leather and metal. “Leave the armor on.”

Loki’s mouth twitches to one side. “As you wish.”

A slight movement of his hands under his tunic, and the fall of his suit opens. Loki positions himself between your trembling legs, sliding one hand up and pushing your legs apart.

He kisses you, sweetly, and pulls back to look you in the eye.

“This is truly what you wish?”

“It is, Loki.”

“You must invite me in.”

You nod. “Loki, you may enter.”

He whispers, “Wrap your legs around my ribs.”

As you roll your hips back, he covers your mouth with his, and you feel him slide into you.

He starts slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size, opening you as you have never been opened before.

You clench, letting him know it’s alright.

Loki rocks his hips, thrusting slowly, slowly filling you, over and over.

Your need burns, endless and deep. You move with his thrusts, urging him deeper and faster.

Loki follows your lead, then takes it. Faster, slower, shallow, deeper, filling you as no one ever has.

You shift, and wrap your legs around his neck. Bracing himself, Loki drives deep, to the center of your being.

You cry out in encouragement, burying your hands in his hair.

Loki rocks steadily into you, filling you with fire and starlight.

You and Loki are moving as one, breathing as one, wrapped in heat and light and sound and—

Loki’s cries mingle with yours as the stars inside you explode into countless points of light.

Loki thrusts a few times, and you open completely to take him to your center.

Still holding his weight on his arms, Loki presses you into the pillows with kisses, fierce and hot.

He shudders again, and you both are still.

Your hands play with his hair, watching him breathe, his eyes closed tight.

He rolls onto his side, taking you with him, still buried deep inside of you.

Loki opens his eyes, a soft smile on his lips.

“That was what I wanted.” You kiss him sweetly, fiercely.

Loki shifts, and thrusts once. Your eyes widen, and you nod.

Loki bites your lip, and thrusts into you again. Your hips respond, following his rhythm.

Loki grabs your hair, and locks you into a fierce kiss as he continues. Hard, fast, and wild, he is pure appetite.

Your need responds in kind, your whole body rocking back hard as he thrusts into you.

The metal of his armor presses into your flesh, cold and biting, every bit as erotic as his mouth on yours. The leather burns against your skin, a promise of marks to come.

Sharp and piercing, you come again as he growls his finish.

Panting, he holds you to him, your face buried against his chest.

His breathing slows, and he lays back on the bed. You shift with him, straddling him.

You smile at him, and grind your hips against his.

“As you wish, sweet one.”

You grind again, as Loki groans and closes his eyes. Slowly, you move your hips in rhythm with his breath, which catches faster and faster.

His eyes open, and he grabs your hips and pulls you down hard, thrusting up into you and exploding inside of you. Your body twists and writhes, taking him all the way inside as you come.

You collapse forward, and rest your head on his chest. Loki strokes your hair, as the two of you slowly resume breathing.

Loki kisses you, sweet and long, eyes shining softly. “My sweet one.”

“My Loki.” You cuddle closer, and drift off to sleep.

* * *

“Loki.” You reach out to pull him closer.

Your hand lands on a pillow.

You open your eyes.

You are alone in your bed.

You sit up, noting your sore muscles, your sticky thighs, and slightly swollen lips.

Looking at your body, you see the marks from the leather, the bites from the armor.

_That was not a dream._

You see a note on the nightstand.

With trembling fingers, you break the seal and unfold the paper.

 

_Sweet One ~_

_Never stop calling for me._

_I will return when I can._

_Your Lover,_

_Loki_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank the incredibly talented @Mastre for doing a preview read of this story, and for her kind encouragement as I hesitated about sharing it. Also, if you haven't read her stories, do yourself a favor and check them out!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your plans for the evening have changed!

“And for what? A warm light, for all mankind to share.” Loki smiles coldly at Fury.

The screen flickers and freezes, then goes blue, then black.

You glance out the window at the darkened street.

_Well, at least I don’t have to deal with the circuit breaker. The whole area is out._

Having the movie interrupted is disappointing, but not terrible—you do know how it ends, after all.

So much for distracting yourself with the movie. You consider your options for entertaining yourself.

Looking back at the screen, you see a green spark floating, and then the candle on the table starts to glow.

You hold your breath.

“Sweet one.”

You turn, and Loki is there. He smiles, and opens his arms.

“Loki!” You race to his arms, and he enfolds you, covering your face and lips with kisses.

“You have missed me, sweet one.” Loki kisses you again. “I am sorry it has taken me so long to return to you.”

“I _have_ missed you, Loki!”

Loki kisses you, quite thoroughly. Your legs start to shake, and he wraps his arms around you more tightly.

“Shall we continue our discussion of the porto-Norse tribes?” His eyes dance with laughter.

“Our last conversation on the topic was such a success!” You laugh, and kiss him.

Loki picks you up and carries you to your bedroom.

Setting you gently on the bed, he loosens your robe and slips it from your shoulders, covering you in kisses.

“You are so thoughtful to be ready for me, in just your nightclothes.”

You blush, just slightly. “I didn’t know you were coming. I was just winding down after a long day.”

“Let’s see what we can do about a long night, shall we?” Loki leans close and gently kisses your ear, tracing a line of kisses down your neck and across your back. You feel his hair brush across your skin, every touch sparking your nerves.

He steps back from the bed and holds out his arms. “Perhaps you could return the favor?”

You nod, and slip off the bed to stand next to him. You stare at all the buckles.

He turns his hands palm up, showing the buckles on his vambraces. With shaking hands, you pull on the first strap to loosen it. To your surprise, the buckles release easily. You turn and set the armor on the valet chair next to your bed.

“This one next.” Loki points to a buckle on the strap that crosses his hip. The leather is warm to the touch, just as his skin is. You try to focus, but your trembling hands betray your distraction. There are two small buckles holding the large strap in place. You take a few tries before the buckles open, and the smaller straps fall along his thigh.

Loki’s hand guides yours in sliding the strap through the slit in his tunic. He pulls off the shoulder guard, and hands it to you to place with his vambraces.

You place the armor together, see it glinting in the candle light.

Loki pulls you into his arms, and covers you with kisses. Your hands slide up his tunic, underneath his coat.

Loki chuckles. “It’s not quite as easy to remove as your robe, sweet one.”

Loki shrugs his shoulders to allow you to pull the coat down his arms. He turns as you remove the coat, and watches over his shoulder as you drape it over the back of the chair.

With the outer layers removed, the tunic pulls off easily. Loki exhales and stretches, and you admire his graceful movements before placing the tunic with his other garments.

You are surprised at the simplicity of the shirt Loki wears, given how elaborate the outer layers of his clothing are. However, it is also simple to remove, and Loki practically purrs as you run your hands over his body while you take the shirt off him.

You stop to admire him, shirtless in the candlelight. He smirks just a bit. “Do I please you?”

You realize you have stopped breathing, and inhale sharply. “Oh, yes, Loki!”

“Good.” He kisses you. “I do so want to please you.”

Loki kisses you again. “But I don’t want to ruin your bedding.” He looks down at his boots. You wonder how the bedclothes weren’t completely shredded during his first visit.

“Magic.” Loki kisses you. “Magic, sweet one. Like you.”

You blush slightly, and try to figure out where to start with the boots. They seem to be all buckles.

“I’ll deal with these.” He leans down, and with a few quick movements, he is free of the boots, standing next to them.

Loki opens his arms, and pulls you to him, stroking your hair. You listen to his heart beating at the speed of desire. You wonder if the high rate is from arousal, or whether the gods’ hearts beat faster than human hearts.

Loki kisses you. “That is entirely you, sweet one.”

Loki keeps you locked in a kiss as he guides your hands to the fall of his pants. The fasteners loose easily, and his pants land on the floor with a loud thud from all the metal work on the sides.

Still kissing you, Loki steps out of the puddle of clothing. He picks you up and places you on the bed.

You see him naked for the first time, his pale body glowing in the warm candlelight, gold sparks dancing in his green eyes, black curls falling over his forehead.

Sheer perfection. A god, in the flesh. _In your bedroom._

You realize you are not breathing. Again.

Loki approaches the bed, his arousal evident. You are astonished that you were able to accommodate him last time, and hope that you will be able to do so again tonight.

His hands flutter over your skin, hands like doves in flight. Desire flames in you, spreading from your center like liquid fire.

One hand cradles the back of your head, keeping you at the perfect angle for kissing. Loki’s other hand trails down between your legs, and dances lightly across your thighs. Your legs open, and you can feel your own slickness. Your hips roll back, opening you to his fingers.

Which flutter across your thighs, and back up around your hips, and down your back.

Loki snaps your hips forward, and you gasp as he plunges in with his full length. You cry out in shock, in amazement, in pleasure, and the first orgasm of the night shudders through your body.

Your eyes flutter open to see Loki smiling with great satisfaction. “A good start, sweet one.”

You thrust your hips, and he grinds into you. “Set the pace, sweet one. I will follow.”

You start slowly, just to let yourself catch your breath. You try not to rush, you want to make each moment last as long as possible.

Loki matches you, easing in and out, matching his movements and breathing with yours.

In spite of your mind’s determination to take your time, your body has its own agenda, and it wants to come again. Loki’s breathing becomes faster than yours, and you want him to come first. Your movements increase in speed, your walls bearing down and clenching around him with each stroke.

You pull one of his hands to your mouth, start licking his fingers. His eyes close, and a low growl escapes his lips.

You lick and suck on his fingers, watching him as his speed suddenly increases, thrusting faster and deeper into you with each breath.

The strength of his thrusts takes over the pace, and your hips now follow his movements, faster and more fierce with each movement.

Your breathing becomes so fast, you can no longer close your mouth to attend to his fingers. He twines his hand in your hair at the sides of your head, and you wrap your legs around his neck.

Loki lifts you off the bed, and with a cry, pierces through to your center. Your cries mingle with his as you are shattered by the orgasm.

You return to your body, and realize you are back on the bed, Loki still inside of you. You open your eyes, and roll your hips in encouragement. Loki picks up where he left off, fast and full strokes, riding you as you writhe beneath him, clinging to him, each filled with the fire of need, the need to join, to connect, to merge.

Your orgasm builds and crashes over you with speed, before you realize it. You call out his name, and hear his voice. “I am here, sweet one. I will catch you.”

You allow yourself to shatter again, knowing Loki will catch all the pieces.

 

Hours later, spent and happy, you hear Loki’s breathing, even and slow, lulling you into your own drowsy state.

_Twinge_.

You sigh, and snuggle closer to Loki.

_Twinge._

You sigh, and sit up carefully so as not to wake Loki. Your mortal body and its kidneys are a terrible inconvenience.

You slip out of bed and into the bathroom.

 

Returning to the bedroom, you spy Loki’s coat draped over the back of your valet chair.

You look over at the bed, where Loki sleeps soundly.

You pick up the coat, and hold it up; still warm from his body, just like you. The coat is heavy in your hands. You marvel that he is able to move so quickly and lightly while wearing it.

You look over at the bed again, and see Loki still asleep.

You tiptoe over to the full-length mirror, and wiggle into the coat, eyes closed. You are surprised that, despite its weight in your hands, it is as light as a shirt on your shoulders.

You count to three, and open your eyes. You expect to see yourself wearing an otherworldly garment that is entirely too large for you, like a child playing dress-up in adult clothing.

The coat has resized itself to fit you perfectly.

_Of course. It’s magic, so it changes with Loki as he shape-shifts._

You turn, admiring yourself in the mirror.

You stand up straighter, strike a pose, whispering, “Yes, I’ve met them.”

You suppress a giggle.

You lean towards the mirror.“I would say I’ve expanded his mind.” The coat fits so well.

You strike another pose, gesturing grandly. “There are no men like me!” You admire yourself in the mirror.

Pleased with your reflection, you tell yourself, “Oh, but I like this!”

Loki’s voice echoes in your ear. “Oh, but I like _this_ ”. He gives a gentle bite on your neck.

You freeze, wondering how long he has been watching you.

Loki turns you to face him, a wide grin of satisfaction on his face.

“It becomes you, sweet one.”

To your surprise, instead of blushing, you stand up and look him directly in the eye. “I am burdened with glorious purpose.”

“I have a glorious purpose in mind for you, sweet one.” Before you know what has happened, Loki has picked you up and returned you to the bed.

Wrapped in leather, lying back against the pillows, a surge of erotic energy pulses through you, leaving you more aroused than you could have imagined just from wearing his coat.

Loki runs his hands over the coat, pressing the leather and metal into your skin. Your eyes close, and you are shaking with desire.

His hands roam your body, always touching you through the coat, never your bare skin. Your exposed nerves are on fire, craving the touch not received.

You move to touch your own skin, and Loki’s hand firmly presses your wrist back into the mattress. “Ah, ah, ah, sweet one. All in good time.”

Loki traces down the side of your neck with one finger, his hand on your bare skin like fire. You whimper, and your hips writhe with need.

Loki traces the outline of your body with one finger, slowly, lingering on your curves, leaving a burning trail of arousal with his touch. Unable to control yourself, your body thrashes and writhes as though he were riding you.

Loki finishes the circuit, rests his finger on your lips. You kiss it, frantic for fuller contact.

“What is it, sweet one? What do you desire?”

Your breathing is so labored, the words fall unevenly from your lips. “You, Loki. Inside of me.”

He smiles. “Of course, sweet one.”

His hand traces a straight line from your mouth to your nether lips, and slides two fingers in. Before his fingers are fully inside, you are swept away by the orgasm, clenching on his fingers and crying his name.

As the orgasm levels off, Loki enters you with his full length in one stroke, and you climax again, coming so hard you almost see stars.

Loki continues stroking as you come, and keeps going. You come again in less than a minute, and this time you _do_ see stars.

Loki’s rhythm continues, strong and steady, filling you with himself, with magic and starlight, with sheer sexual power feeding your soul.

You lose all thought, all notions of time and space, you are one with Loki, thrusting and floating and burning with starlight.

As a star, you nova, light so bright that nothing is visible, then all is velvet darkness.

You slowly return to your human body, to your human consciousness.

Loki is holding himself above you, arms shaking, his whole body shaking.

You draw him down to rest on you.

“Sweet one.” Loki’s words are faint as he tries to steady his breathing.

“Loki.” Your voice is low and smooth, coming from the very center of your being.

You run your hands through his curls as he lies motionless on top of you.

You stay this way for some time.

With a soft groan, Loki pulls himself out, and rolls onto his side, still keeping his arms around you.

“Sweet one.” Loki kisses you.

You kiss Loki. “My magical lover.”

“Sweet one. My glorious purpose.” Loki closes his eyes, a soft smile on his lips.

You watch him as he falls asleep, determined to stay awake all night to enjoy the sight of him completely relaxed and present with you.

 

Faint music swells gradually, piercing the veil of your slumber. The musical pace builds, and the sound crescendoes.

You realize your alarm is going off, and iTunes has chosen to wake you with “Ride to the Observatory”. Your mind giggles, even though your body is too sleepy to do much of anything.

You remember Loki’s visit last night, and wearing his coat.

You can tell you are not wearing it. You count to three, and open your eyes.

You are alone in your bed, but your body gives you no doubt that you were not alone the previous evening.

You look to the nightstand, and see a note.

You reach for the note, and open it.

 

_Sweet One ~_

_Be good to yourself, my Glorious Purpose._

_I will return to you soon._

_Your Lover,_

_Loki_


End file.
